‘Roger.’ She stepped closer to him, her voice barely a whisper. ‘I think she’s asleep.’
Roger glanced at her sharply then he looked back at his daughter, narrowing his eyes. ‘Dear God, I think you’re right! What do we do?’
‘Isn’t it supposed to be dangerous to wake them?’ Kate threw a pleading look towards Diana.
It was Patrick who acted. ‘If she’s asleep she can’t see us,’ he said quietly. He took a cautious step towards his sister, and then, as she failed to react he took another. Slipping round behind her, he put his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘Come on, Allie, back to bed.’ She ignored him. ‘Allie. Come on. You must lie down – ’ He increased the pressure slightly, trying to turn her round. She tensed, then suddenly she swung round out of his grip, letting fly with a massive punch which grazed Patrick’s shoulder as he leaped out of the way.
‘All right, Alison, that is enough.’ Roger moved with surprising speed. He caught her wrists, and pulled her towards a chair. ‘Awake or asleep you are not behaving like that in this house.’ Taken by surprise she took two steps with him then she stopped and shook him off. He reeled back. Though weak with illness he was a tall man, and still fairly heavy and his daughter had flicked him away as though he were half her size. Her face was still blank; all expression completely wiped from her features.
‘She’s like a robot,’ Patrick whispered. He slipped across to his father’s side. ‘Are you OK, Dad? She hasn’t hurt you?’
Roger shook his head. They all had their eyes fixed on Alison’s face which remained impassive. Kate frowned. Was she asleep? Or was it something else? The girl stood immobile for several minutes; no one moved or spoke, then out of the corner of her eye Kate saw Diana slip from the room. Moments later she reappeared, a canvas belt in her hand. As they watched she tiptoed up behind Alison and gently she began to slide the belt around her, over her arms, obviously intending to pinion them at her sides. Alison did not react. Gently, Diana pulled the belt tighter, just above the girl’s elbows. ‘Fetch a blanket, Roger. Wrap her up tightly,’ she commanded. ‘Quickly. Before she wakes up.’
Alison stepped forward at the sound of her voice as if becoming aware of the restriction for the first time. She tried to move her arms and a look of frightened puzzlement flashed across her face to be followed immediately by a roar of rage. She turned round, lashing out with her hands and almost without effort, snapped the belt. The expression on her face was one of pure anger. She turned towards the table and reached out. Too late Kate saw the bread knife lying beside the loaf; she jumped to move it but Alison was there first and her hand was on the knife handle before Kate’s. Kate grabbed her wrist, and for a moment their eyes met across the table. Kate felt a shaft of terror stab through her; the eyes which bore into hers were not Alison’s; they were no longer expressionless; no longer asleep; they were cold, calculating and very angry.
‘Allie -’ She gasped. ‘Please.’
Alison laughed. A deep throaty laugh. Twisting her arm effortlessly beneath Kate’s grasping fingers she snatched the knife up and turning, lunged at her mother. She missed and for a moment she was off balance. Seizing his chance Patrick threw himself at her and they fell to the floor, wrestling.
‘Paddy -’ Diana’s scream rang across the room as the blade caught his forearm and a splash of blood flew across the rush matting, but he did not let go. They fought on furiously, Patrick kicking and struggling as Alison began surely and steadily to overpower him. ‘Roger, do something!’ Forgetting her husband’s weakness Diana screamed again but it was Kate who snatched up the folded tablecloth from the dresser and flung it over Alison’s head. At the same moment Patrick wriggled free of his sister’s arm lock and put his foot on her wrist, pinning it to the floor while he snatched the knife from her. It was only then that they realised that Greg was in the room, hobbling on a walking stick, his face white with pain.
‘Here.’ He handed something to his mother. ‘Quickly. It’s Dad’s sedative.’ Her hands shaking visibly, Diana opened the box he had given her and took out a syringe. She glanced at Roger, then filling it she approached her writhing daughter and, pulling the night shirt up, planted the needle in the girl’s buttock. Alison let out a scream of rage, only half muffled by the tablecloth Kate was holding round her head. It was followed by a stream of abuse which only very slowly subsided into silence. It was several minutes before her clenched fists relaxed and she slumped to the floor. Cautiously Kate removed the tablecloth and looked down. Alison’s face, flushed from the struggle was relaxed at last; she was breathing quickly and lightly, her hair spread across the floor. Slowly Patrick stooped and pulled his sister’s nightshirt down to cover her bottom, then he turned and picking up a drying up cloth from the draining board he staunched the blood flowing from his arm.
‘Don’t, Patrick. That’s germy,’ Diana’s comment was automatic; her eyes had not left Alison’s face.
‘Did you hear what she was screaming?’ Greg lowered himself into a chair, his head swimming from the effort of dragging himself from the study.
‘It was some foreign language,’ Roger said after a moment’s hesitation.
‘Not just any foreign language.’ Greg looked at Kate. ‘Go on. Tell them. What was it?’
Kate shook her head. ‘I’m not sure – ’
‘Of course you’re sure. You heard what she said. It was some sort of Latin. Go on admit it. You heard her.’ He stared round at them all. ‘You all heard her. It was Latin!’
Patrick bent down to pick up the knife. He stared at it for a moment as though he couldn’t believe he held it in his hands. ‘Allie would never have done that; she couldn’t have done that. No girl could be that strong.’
Diana picked up the broken belt. It had snapped in two places. They all stared at it. ‘How long will that injection last?’ Roger asked softly. He glanced up at his wife. The sedative had been left by the doctor for him.
‘Not long. I didn’t expect it to work so quickly. She was looking down at Alison’s slumped body. ‘I only used a tiny dose. Oh, Roger, what are we going to do with her?’ Her voice shook with tears.
Roger moved to put his arm around her shoulders. ‘I don’t know.’ His whole body was slumped with defeat.
‘There is something you should know.’ Greg looked from one to the other and then at Kate. His face was full of compassion. ‘Before he died Bill told us that it was Alison who had attacked him.’
‘No!’ Diana’s protest was half a scream, half a moan.
‘I’m afraid that is what he said,’ Kate added. ‘But it wasn’t Alison, was it? We all know that. Those eyes weren’t Alison’s.’
‘What are you saying?’ Diana rounded on her.
‘You know what she’s saying,’ Greg said. He stared down at his sister’s recumbent form. ‘She’s possessed.’
‘No.’
‘What do you call it then?’ He reached across towards her but she drew back. He shrugged. ‘That was not Alison speaking; they are not Alison’s actions. Kate’s right. They are not even her eyes.’
Diana burst into tears. ‘What are we going to do?’
Greg looked at Kate and then at his father, who had sunk into the chair at the head of the table, his face grey with fatigue. ‘We have to find a doctor.’
‘No!’ Diana turned on him. ‘We are not getting a doctor, or the police. I am not having Allie taken away from here – ’
‘What about my foot?’ Greg’s voice was mild. ‘And Dad. I think the doc should look at him.’ He paused. ‘Allie needs help. Badly. You know she does.’
‘No.’ Diana shook her head. Tears were pouring down her cheeks. ‘No, we’ll sort this all out ourselves. It will be all right. Allie will be fine when she’s had a sleep. Your foot will be all right, Greg. It’s better already, you said so yourself and your father only needs to rest – ’
‘Di.’ Roger looked up. He rubbed his hands wearily across his cheeks and they all heard the rasping sound of his palms on the twenty-four-hour beard. ‘We can’t handle this ourselves. You know that better than I do. There is a dead man out there in the cottage. A dead man, Di. He’s not imaginary. He’s not going to sort himself out.’
‘Allie didn’t move the car, Ma,’ Patrick put in suddenly. ‘There must be someone else out there.’
‘Patrick and I will go and phone from the Farnboroughs’.’ Kate stood up. ‘I think we should go now.’
‘Take the gun, Paddy.’ Roger nodded. ‘Greg and I can take care of things here.’
Patrick looked from one parent’s face to the other, uncertainly, then he turned to Kate. ‘OK?’ he whispered.
