she had slid in her daydream to the garden in Kew, drawn inexorably back to civilisation.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, her back to the Aga, feeling its warmth a solid comfort gently enfolding her. She was thinking about her father. Her interest in the supernatural came from him. The solid acceptance of the weird and wonderful being a normal part of an amazingly varied and extraordinary world. She remembered as a child exploring old castles and abbeys with him. He was the one who had discouraged cameras and made her sketch instead. ‘That way, Andy, you capture the heart and soul of a place.’ Even when he remarried he found time to go on encouraging her. Nina, who had showed no bitterness at the break-up and seemed to accept the status quo with extraordinary equanimity, would pack her off on the train north where she would be welcomed into her father’s new family by his lovely Northumbrian wife, with first one then two then three new siblings, all boys, and all of whom she adored. They still got on well. She had missed them too. She had seen very little of her father in the last ten years. Perhaps Graham had taken his place. A father figure. She frowned. That was not a pleasant thought. She would get in touch with Rufus soon, re-establish ties, maybe go and see him.
Behind her the cat flap clicked and Pepper appeared. He trotted over to his empty food bowl, examined it and turned to look at her reproachfully. She smiled. ‘You are not going to try and persuade me you haven’t had your supper, my friend. I remember distinctly giving it to you because my mum watched me and she thinks you get too much to eat.’
Pepper turned his back on her, sat down and began washing his face. She was sure he understood a lot of what she said. Nina was right there too. She had missed having dogs and cats around her. It was wonderful to have a cat again, even on loan. And as Pepper had reminded her, she was here to look after him. If she was going to see her father again he would have to come down to see her.
Pepper yawned and without realising it she did too.
Still exhausted from their long ride Catrin lay back in another unaccustomed bed, staring up at another stranger’s ceiling and drifted off to sleep. Her dream was different this time; in it she was back at home; the violence and the shouting were gone. Sleeper’s Castle was quiet. In the silence she could hear the sound of the brook outside the window, enveloping her, wrapping her in the comfort of the darkness. For a while she lay without moving, then as the first birds began to sing across the cwm she rose from her bed. Her eyes were still closed as she walked towards the stairs. Her father was asleep in his own bed, for once snoring gently on his pillow stuffed with dried hops to soothe his dreams. Sleepwalking down the stairs and across the hall, she went towards the kitchen. The other woman was there, asleep at the table, her head cushioned on her arms.
In her dream Catrin stood looking at her for a long time without moving, then slowly she crept across the flagged floor towards her. Andy moved uncomfortably and reached out an arm without waking. Catrin stepped back sharply, watching. Andy didn’t move again, her breathing slow and regular. Once more Catrin approached and cautiously stretching out her hand she touched the corner of the table with the tips of her fingers. The table was plain scrubbed pine. The table in Catrin’s kitchen, the table where Joan prepared their meals, was made from a huge chunk of solid oak, criss-crossed with cuts from her cleaver as she prepared their meat and vegetables. Catrin stood still, holding her breath, then she turned and tiptoed back out of the kitchen.
Andy didn’t stir but somehow she was aware of the shadowy figure, seeing it cross the great hall and walk slowly up the stairs. In her dream Catrin climbed slowly back into bed and lay down. As she snuggled once more onto her pillow she gave a small sigh. The room was Andy’s room, the bed in the corner where Andy’s bed stood, the window the window Andy looked out of down to the moonlit garden below. She could see the mullions, trace the lines of the stone, the smooth curve of the chisel, the rough edges where the man who made them had drained his tankard of ale, smacked his lips and returned to work slightly the worse for wear.
Andy woke suddenly and sat upright, staring towards the window. There was a faint glimmer of daylight filtering into the room. There were curtains now, but the mullions were the same.
She had staggered up to bed only four hours ago after waking to find herself in the kitchen, her head cushioned on her arms. There had been no sign of Pepper and her neck was agonisingly stiff. She had forced herself to stand up, turn off the lights and head next door towards the stairs, then she had stopped, aware of a presence in the house. Her mother. Of course, her mother was asleep upstairs in Sue’s room.
She paused on the landing, listening. There was no sound from the other bedroom. Making her way to her own bed she slipped off her shoes and lay down under the duvet fully dressed. In seconds she was asleep.
She remembered the dream after a shower and a change of clothes next morning. The Catrin of her dreams had been standing staring down at Andy as she was asleep in the kitchen. She could see herself, unconscious, vulnerable, unaware, the young woman creeping towards her, extending her hand as if to touch her, then gently stroking the corner of the table instead. It had been so real. Catrin was younger than she had realised, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. She was slim beneath the bulky clothes, with rich chestnut hair slipping from beneath her linen coif and gentle concerned eyes.
‘You’re up early.’ Nina was already in the kitchen when she went downstairs. She was listening to the Today programme as she made breakfast. The table was laid. Pepper was sitting on the windowsill watching the proceedings with what looked suspiciously like approval.
Andy approached the table and held out her hand to touch it, stroking the corner lightly with her fingertips.
Nina turned off the radio. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I dreamt there was a woman in here. I fell asleep where I was last night after you went to bed and she was standing watching me. She reached out to touch the table near my hand.’ Andy shivered. ‘It was strange. Very real. It was as if she was studying me; watching me. She’s called Catrin.’
Nina put the coffee pot on the table. ‘Get some of that down you. You were so exhausted last night I’m not surprised you dreamt vividly.’
‘I can’t help wondering if I was actually awake.’ Andy reached for the coffee.
‘Dreams can be incredibly real sometimes.’ Her mother produced two slices of warm toast and put butter and marmalade on the table.
‘I know. I’ve been having some truly violent dreams since I arrived here. Battles.’
‘That sounds like stress and exhaustion to me.’ Nina sat down opposite her. She surveyed her daughter’s face. ‘You don’t have to stay here, darling. I’ve told you before, you can always come home with me.’
‘No! No, I love it here!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely sure.’ Andy hesitated. ‘It never even occurred to me that the house might be haunted until someone mentioned ghosts at a supper party I went to last week. Even then, I wasn’t worried. You know me.’ She smiled at her mother. ‘Catrin is part of my dreams, but I think she is a ghost as well.’ She paused. ‘If she is, if there are ghosts here, it’s interesting. It doesn’t bother me.’
‘You’re sure it doesn’t frighten you?’
‘No, it doesn’t.’
Nina screwed up her face. ‘As I reminded you, darling, this is not my department. I am impervious to ghosts. If you want to discuss it, you should ring your father. But my instinct is to leave well alone. Living up here completely alone is going to be quite enough of a challenge, I would have
