33
The Porsche turned cautiously up the steep lane following its bumpy twists and turns as Nick peered through the windshield and then down at the ordnance survey map on the seat beside him. He was very tired.
After drawing the car up next to Jo’s at the top of the lane, he climbed out at last, staring at the view in silence. Then something made him turn.
Jo was standing behind him in the doorway to the farmhouse. She was far more tanned than he remembered, her face and arms burned like a gypsy, her long hair caught back on the nape of her neck. She was wearing a simple white dress and low-heeled sandals and looked, so he thought with a pang of strange fear, almost supernaturally beautiful. Slowly he swung the car door shut.
“How are you, Jo?”
She still had not smiled. “How did you know where I was?”
“Someone told me you were back in Wales so I drove to Hay. Margiad said you were up here.” He had not moved.
She watched him warily. His face was thin and there were lines of fatigue beneath his eyes and around his mouth, but he was still in her eyes the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was wearing an open-necked blue shirt and cords. “You’ve seen the article?” she said softly.
He nodded.
“Is it true?”
For a moment he didn’t reply, then slowly he nodded. “I think it probably is.”
Behind her Ann had emerged from the low shadowed building. She looked at them in silence for a moment, then she held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Ann,” she said.
“Nick Franklyn.” Nick moved forward at last and gripped her fingers for a moment. “I’m sorry to arrive unannounced. I meant to call from Hay, then I thought perhaps I’d better surprise you-”
“In case I ran away?” Jo said.
“Under the circumstances I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.” He forced himself to smile at Ann. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding-”
“You’re not. I’m glad you’re here. And you’re in perfect time for a drink. Ben has promised we can resort to gin tonight after inflicting home brew on Jo all yesterday, so you picked your moment well.” Ann turned. “Jo. You promised Bill and Polly you would build one more sandcastle before they went to bed.”
She watched as Jo disappeared into the farmhouse. “She said she never used to like kids,” she said reflectively, looking after her. “Till she had six of her own.” She gave a wry little laugh. “Now she’s great with them. Better than me.” She linked arms with Nick and led him toward the stone wall that bounded the garden at the western end. They stopped and leaned on it, staring at the mountains in the distance. A smoky haze was beginning to shroud the valleys round their feet.
“Jo has told us something of her story,” Ann said reflectively after a moment. “She has asked me to help her, and I want to.”
“I gather she has decided to stop the whole thing.”
“She can’t stop, Nick.”
Nick sighed. He said nothing, his eyes on the distant view.
“She showed me the article about your experiences,” Ann went on after a minute.
Nick slammed the palm of his hand down on the top of the wall. “My ‘experiences,’ as you call them, were not genuine,” he said forcibly. “Most of that article was a load of rubbish.” He swung to face her. “It has to have been!”
Ann looked at him seriously, trying to read the expression in his eyes-the anger, the frustration, and, yes, the fear. It was all there for a moment before the shutters came down and she saw his face close.
“Most?” she said softly. “Then some of it was true?”
He leaned against the wall, facing her now. “I find it strange she should confide so completely in people she barely knows,” he said with sudden harshness, ignoring her question.
Ann smiled. “There’s a reason. I do know something about hypnosis-and about past life recall-but I hope it’s more than that. I hope we have become her friends as well. I can’t take the credit for it if we have, though. That’s Ben. Everyone trusts Ben.” She glanced away almost shyly. “I hope you will too.”
As if on cue, Ben appeared from behind the house carrying a basket loaded with vegetables. He raised an earthy hand and disappeared in through the front door.
Ann stood up. “Come and meet him, then we’ll get you that drink. Jo must be about ready for rescue from our kids by now.”
They ate outside by candlelight beneath a luminous sky streaked with shooting stars. In the valley they could hear the yap of a hunting owl and, closer at hand, the thin whisper of upland crickets.
Ben pushed back his plate. “That was lovely, Annie. You excelled yourself, my dear.”
She smiled at him dreamily. “And my reward? Will you fight the filter, just this once?”
Ben laughed. He leaned across and rumpled her hair. “Just this once, okay. Come on, Jo. You look like a competent sort of female. Help me.”
Ann leaned back in her chair as Jo and Ben disappeared into the kitchen and the door swung shut behind them, shutting off the stream of light from the oil lamps.
“I suppose you don’t feel like confiding in a couple of strangers too?” she said after a moment.
Nick was staring at the stars. “There must be a shower of meteorites going over,” he said quietly. “That’s about the sixth shooting star I’ve seen.”
“They’re supposed to be lucky,” she said. “I’m a good listener, Nick.”
He smiled in the darkness. “I don’t know if there is anything to say.”
“You’re worried.”
He nodded.
“And you’re afraid.”
He tensed and for a moment she thought he would deny it. “Yes, I’m afraid.”
“For Jo.”
“What would you say if I told you I think I may have been programmed to hurt her?”
“I would say it was impossible.”
“But can you be sure of that?”
She could feel his eyes on her in the small dazzle of the candlelight. “Almost. Yes.” She leaned forward. “What do you mean by programmed?”
“I allowed my brother to hypnotize me. I trusted him completely, I had no reservations. It turns out I was mistaken in doing that. He claims”-he hesitated-“he claims that he has already set me on a course from which I cannot draw back. One that involves Jo’s destruction.”
He had taken an unused spoon between his fingers, twisting it restlessly to and fro. It snapped suddenly under the pressure and Nick stared down at it in surprise. “I’m sorry-”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ann hadn’t taken her eyes from his face. “Listen. Tell me honestly. How do you feel about Jo? Do you distrust her in any way? Do you dislike her? Resent her? Hate her?”
“No. God in heaven. No!”
“You say that without reservation?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t think you have anything to fear.”
“But supposing Sam has planted some idea in my head that I don’t remember? He has discovered-or tried to convince me-that I am-I was-John. He knows and I know that Jo is-was-Matilda. For God’s sake, can’t you see what’s happening? He wants me to kill her again!”
Ann felt a whisper of cold air across her skin. She glanced at the candle flame, expecting it to flicker. “What you are suggesting, Nick, can’t happen in real life. It’s pure science fiction. If it were possible, people would have the perfect murder weapon, wouldn’t they?”
