sorry the fire’s not lit. Sarah went shopping for me early and she must have forgotten. It’ll soon warm up in here.’ She handed him a cup, then, glancing out of the windows at the garden which was still swathed in damp mist, she reached for the matches and knelt before the fire. ‘I suppose you’ve come about the trust as well. I had Gillian here yesterday.’ She sat back and watched as the flame flared on the firelighter and spread to the rest of the kindling, licking along the twigs and across the bark of the apple logs. Behind her, her brother-in-law stood, coffee cup in hand, and stared down at her thoughtfully.
‘I was passing on my way up to Norwich actually,’ he said after a pause. ‘I thought it would be nice to look in and see how you were. I’m not here about the trust.’
‘Good, because it’s nothing to do with me. You and David and Paul can fight it out between you.’
He studied her for a moment. She was looking particularly attractive in a flared emerald-green skirt and green and black sweater. He had always thought her a good-looking woman, particularly her eyes. There was something especially appealing about her eyes. But he was shocked to see how tired and strained she was looking.
‘I was so sorry, Clare, to hear about the results of the tests.’ He sat down and balanced his cup on his knee. ‘Chloe told me. I hope you don’t mind.’ He saw her knuckles whiten on the poker as she stirred the fire and he paused for a moment waiting for her to speak. When she didn’t he went on gently, ‘Have you and Paul discussed adoption?’
‘We haven’t discussed anything much lately.’ She put the poker down, but she stayed where she was, staring into the fire with her back to him. ‘I’m just glad all the tests and things are over.’
‘You’re not going to seek a second opinion then?’
‘No.’ She tightened her lips.
‘I see.’ He paused again, then he went on, choosing his words with care. ‘And are you going to go on with your study of yoga?’
‘How did you know I was studying yoga?’ Slowly Clare stood up. When she turned to face him she had remembered Chloe’s call and she was smiling impishly. ‘Of course. Emma told you, didn’t she?’
‘She mentioned it, yes.’ Geoffrey looked down at his cup. ‘My dear, I don’t want you to think I’m interfering, but I was a little concerned when I heard what you were doing. Can we talk about it?’
‘That sounds very portentous, Geoffrey.’ She sat down opposite him. ‘Does the Church of England disapprove of yoga?’
‘Yoga is often misunderstood, Clare. Practitioners of it tend to emphasise the fact that it is just a method of exercising and relaxing one’s body. They play down the fact, either intentionally or because they do not know it, that it is also a spiritual exercise, designed to bring about changes in one’s whole psyche, and that if one does it properly it can open and expose one’s mind and soul, and leave them very vulnerable.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Does that sound very pompous?’
She nodded. ‘I’m afraid it does rather. A far cry from the classes they give in the village hall here.’
‘But you didn’t learn it in the village hall, did you?’ He put down his coffee cup. ‘I gather that the man who taught you has also taught you something about meditation.’
‘Which again comes highly recommended in every book you pick up these days. It’s the panacea of the eighties.’ She frowned. ‘It’s not dangerous, Geoffrey.’
He scowled. ‘Tell me about these visions you see.’
‘You mean the one with the horns and the cloven hooves and the tail with a point on the end?’
Outside the sun was fighting its way out of the mist. A ray of sunlight crept slowly across the carpet and stopped at her feet.
He didn’t laugh. For a long moment he watched her intently, then at last he looked away. ‘You think it all a joke?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not a joke. Not to me – but it is when you take it so seriously.’ She refused to allow herself to think about what Zak had said.
‘I take it seriously because it’s a serious matter, Clare.’
‘You’re talking about the witchcraft now, of course.’ She looked at him solemnly. ‘I didn’t think I’d told Emma about that. There are a lot of covens in East Anglia – but there are waiting lists. One would be lucky to get into one.’ She walked over the window and stared out, so he couldn’t see her face. ‘I’m getting very good at it.’
Behind her Geoffrey swallowed. ‘Clare –’
‘It was frightening at first, of course – especially the first time I raised the devil. It’s hard to remember the ceremonies; the incantations – but when it works …’ She turned to face him. ‘Don’t you believe me? You should ask Sarah. She’ll tell you. She caught me at it last night. She was almost terrified to death.’
‘Clare –’
‘The Church of England is boring, Geoffrey.’ She was speaking very fast. ‘It hasn’t reassured me, or comforted me. It leaves me cold. I’m sorry. But it’s true. And if it’s concerned about my soul I’m grateful – but I don’t need its concern. I’d rather go on my own way.’
‘Will you tell me what you do?’
‘The ceremonies are secret. You know better than to ask that.’ She was swinging from humour to seriousness so quickly he was not sure which was which.
‘Then tell me what happens. Do these people appear to you as apparitions?’
‘They appear as people; in my head. They are daydreams. Imaginary. Nothing to do with you.’
‘But they are not daydreams, are they? You are summoning them.’
‘Imagining, summoning. What’s the difference? It is not as though any one else can see them. At least …’ She stopped in mid sentence. She was staring at the dog who was lying head on paws near the door. Casta had sensed them. And so had Zak. She shivered suddenly.
Geoffrey was watching her closely. He frowned. ‘Please let me help you, Clare,’ he said. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. ‘Please. I can get rid of them for you.’
She stared at him. ‘Get rid of them?’
‘These people who are tormenting you.’
‘They are not tormenting me! And I don’t want to get rid of them!’ Her indignation flared again. ‘I care about them, Geoff. Isobel is like another me. I want to know all about her. I want to dream about her, or conjure up her shade or whatever it is I’m doing. She belongs at Duncairn. She’s part of my history; she’s part of me. She’s living again through me. And I intend to go on summoning her to me, even if it does put my soul in jeopardy!’ She took a deep breath. ‘What sort of life do you think I lead here, Geoff? What do you think I do all day?’ She sat down near him. ‘I’m young; I’m energetic; I’m intelligent. I can’t have children, so I’m not spending my time with my family. I have a housekeeper to look after the house. My husband doesn’t want me to work – and up to now I haven’t been able to face the hassle
