‘His faith – it’s probably all he’s got left.’
‘But being stuck in time like this, for ever, it’s taken all the meaning and all the purpose out of our lives. If you know you’re going to die, every second is more valuable than anything else you can think of. That’s what I understand now. Every second is more valuable than money, or property, or half a dozen Rembrandts hanging in your hall. Tonight, I can tell you, I’d happily give up everything I own, even my big fat pension fund, just to be up in that bedroom lying next to my Katharine and to be able to put my arm around her and hear her breathing and feel that everything was normal again.
‘That priest, that Thomas… he might have given me all the time in the world, but he’s stolen my life.’
‘It was Thomas who trapped you? Why?’
‘I don’t know. I wish I could remember, but I can’t. I’ve told you how much of a pig’s dinner my mind’s been in, since he chanted me. I took Katharine to Tavistock for something to eat and I drank too much. Actually, we both did. I know we had an argument and I stayed downstairs, in the drawing room, while Katharine went to bed.’
The moon had set now, and there would be half an hour of absolute darkness before dawn began to lighten the sky. The library window was as black and shiny as Ada’s obsidian scrying mirror had been, and she could see herself reflected in it, but not Martin.
Martin thumped his fist against his forehead, as if that would help him to remember what had happened.
‘I can vaguely recall shouting at Thomas for some reason and I know I was very angry but I can’t think why. The next thing I remember is him standing over me in his black habit and his dog collar and laying a hand on my shoulder and chanting. It felt like the whole world was sliding sideways and the floor was opening up and I was being tipped into hell.’
They sat in silence, each with their own feeling of helplessness. As the moon sank further below the moors, Ada had the strange feeling of being pinned more and more forcefully against the back of the leather armchair. It reminded her of being pinned by centrifugal force against the wall of the Gravitron fairground ride on Barry Island.
‘Martin—’ she gasped, reaching out both hands and trying to rise up out of her seat, but for a few seconds she felt as if she were glued there. Then – just as suddenly as it had started – the tension relaxed and then died away completely.
When she looked at her uplifted hands, she could see that she was now in the same state as Martin, still visible but translucent, and that she was no longer reflected in the window. Through her bare feet, she could dimly make out the pattern of the red Kendra rug that lay under the library table.
‘It’s over,’ she whispered.
‘What?’
‘It’s over. I’m trapped again. I’m not real any more.’
Martin went to the door and listened. There was no more laughing and clanking of beer bottles from the kitchen. Jaws and the other men must have been taken back up to the witching room too, and it would be a month before there was another full moon – the wolf moon, in January.
Ada stood up. ‘We can go and slide those keys back under their doors now, so that your family can all let themselves out.’
She took hold of Martin’s hand. It was the strangest feeling – more like the feeling of cold air blowing from a hand dryer than a human hand.
‘You know that I’ll never be able to thank you enough for saving me tonight,’ she told him.
He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on her fringe. ‘You’re not the only one who was saved, Ada. I found something inside myself that I never knew was there.’
They were about to leave the library when they saw the shadowy figures of Jaws and his companions crossing the hallway and mounting the stairs, whispering to each other. Martin held Ada back in the doorway until they were gone, and then the two of them went up too.
When they were only halfway up, Ada heard a long, low groan, and she was sure that she felt the staircase moving under her feet, one oak joint creaking uncomfortably against another, as if the house were having a bad dream, and stirring in its sleep.
35
Only five minutes after Rob had climbed back into bed and switched off the bedside lamp, Vicky said, ‘Honestly, darling, I need to go to the toilet.’
He switched the lamp back on. ‘Oh God. Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. I’ve been trying to hold it for the past half hour, but I can’t.’
‘You’d think an old house like this would have chamber pots, wouldn’t you? Maybe you could use a pillow to soak it up.’
He swung his legs out of bed and went across to the door, gripping the handle in both hands and wrenching it as hard as he could, trying to break the deadbolt out of the strike plate. He yanked it three or four times, without budging it, but as he stepped back to pull it again, he stepped on the key. He looked down at it, baffled, and then he bent over and picked it up.
‘I don’t believe this,’ he said, showing it to Vicky. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t here before. It must have just dropped out of the lock.’
Vicky climbed out of bed, too. ‘I don’t care if it fell from heaven, Rob. Just open the door so that I can go to the loo!’
After Vicky had hurried out to the bathroom, Rob walked down the corridor to Grace and Portia’s bedroom, listened for a moment, and then knocked.
‘Who
