Freya's Quest Read online

She pushed me through an archway into what had been the nave. The interior was as black as the exterior, but there were many pillars with amazing twists and carved reliefs, all once awash with colours – monsters, goblins and serpents abounded, some in sexual poses.

  This was no ordinary chapel! As we walked upon the floor, I noticed more of the geometric shapes we’d seen in the folly. To the sides were four marble plinths, with black effigies upon them. I moved over to one and looked at the carved lettering, once marked in gold leaf:

  BARON SIEGFRIED von ESCHENBACH

  1800-89

  ‘A German?’

  ‘Yes, a Bavarian, I think. He commissioned the Lodge in the first place. Or maybe bought it off the first owner, I’m not sure. I read it in this old book in the library. Memory escapes me now, but he was definitely the one who built this chapel.’

  I moved along to the next tomb. The effigy was certainly that of a woman, but with the inscription so badly decayed, I could only read the year of her death – 1907.

  ‘I think she was the Baron’s daughter. When she died this place fell into rack and ruin. The Lodge lasted a little longer, but had succumbed to the same fate by the 1920s. It would’ve remained so, if Dylan hadn’t renovated it.’

  ‘Why was the Lodge left to rack and ruin?

  ‘Too difficult and expensive to maintain, I suppose. A lot of country mansions suffered a similar fate.’

  ‘There must’ve been more to it, surely?’

  ‘Well, back in the Fifties, a legend still persisted amongst the locals that the Baron had been in league with the Devil!’

  ‘What rubbish!’ I said, yet realizing Sera had obviously taken her inspiration for the folly painting from these rumours.

  ‘Yes, I’ve always thought so. Especially since his daughter was my grandmother!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, I only found this out by chance. Mother never tells me anything. Her name was Hildegard. She married an MP called Sir Ernest Faversham.’ She pointed to the tomb on the other side of the chapel. ‘They only had one son, Frederick, my father.’

  I gasped as she led me to the last tomb, which lay half demolished as if by human hand. ‘He only lay here for a few years. Dylan had him exhumed and reburied in a churchyard down in the valley, when he acquired this property.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  We moved forward, skirting the oak tree, whose roots had torn up the floor tiles. Beyond lay the back wall, with its huge, once intricate cinquefoil window. Little remained now. Below this stood a solid black altar, showing a few cracks in its lining.

  ‘The land remained in my family till Mother sold out to the Forestry Commission in 1973. I get the impression Dylan was furious. Anyway, he certainly vowed to buy the Lodge back one day. By the time he achieved it, back in 1980, the building was a derelict shell, ready for demolition. You wouldn’t believe it now, would you? He’s done such a wonderful restoration.’

  ‘He has. It certainly looks very authentic. What was his motivation? Did he want to recover your family’s prestige? Or was it because he always liked the building? You said they all used to play here as children.’

  ‘The second, maybe….But the overriding reason’s because Sera’s buried here.’

  I exhaled deeply.

  She guided me back outside and around to the far side, which had been hidden from view on the way in.

  Old iron railings, rusted from neglect, ringed an overgrown earthen mound. A simple decaying headstone read:

  Seraphina Faversham Jones

  1953-1970

  Beloved wife of

  John Dylan Jones

  R.I.P.

  ‘Jones?’ I queried.

  ‘Yes, Jones. His mother’s name. His parents never married. Quest was a pseudonym for his writing at first. He later changed it officially.’

  I stared back at the ill-kept grave, which looked as forgotten as the old chapel itself.

  A sense of the finality of death oppressed me.

  Seventeen years in the elements, untended, had left her grave in a sorry state. This stark reality told me much more about Dylan than my researches so far had informed me. It was as if Seraphina hadn’t existed….No, no….I corrected myself in my thoughts. It was as if Seraphina’s death had never happened.

  ‘Dylan hasn’t accepted she’s dead, has he?’

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Mm. Does he visit the grave himself?’

  ‘No. One look at the state of this site should answer that question.’

  ‘What about other people?’

  ‘Only the immediate family know this place exists. And he forbids us all from coming here. That’s why I’ve been so secretive. If news got back to Dylan that I’ve come here, or more to the point, brought you – an outsider – here, you’d never hear the end of it!’

  ‘But surely you’ve a right to visit the grave of your own sister?’

  ‘Of course I have the right. But Dylan’s too possessive. When he met her, he was bewitched by her beauty and set about possessing her. He succeeded, of course. And he possesses her still, in death.’

  I shuddered.

  ‘I’m not going to let him possess me in the same way!’ cried Emily, tears welling up in her eyes.

  When she’d recovered enough, we left the eerie edifice, for which I was extremely grateful. I had no intention of being caught as night fell in such a haunting place as this.

  Once back at the rear entrance, she collected her motorbike. Then she gave me a message that she quickly scrawled on a dirty and creased piece of paper.

  ‘Give this to Dylan.’

  I nodded and watched her head off through the archway.

  - X -

  THE SOUNDS OF a car creeping slowly up the driveway woke me from a fretful sleep. I’d had nightmares about the creepy old chapel, so I was thankful for the fresh morning light streaming through the curtains. I turned to Dylan’s side of the bed, but only his compressed outline on the crumpled sheets remained. I sat up and whipped my legs out over the edge of the bed. I clawed my tousled hair away from my face, glad there really were no bats tangled up in it, and walked across to the window.

  I could not make out the car at first, only its tinny engine noise. Then a battered Citroën Ami 8 drove through the inner gatehouse and came to a halt in the courtyard below.

  Janis climbed out of the car. A girl also alighted, a younger image of her mother, but with longer, dark-brown hair. She ran around in precocious mood, as Dylan’s sheepdog bounded out to greet them.

  I opened the window and studied them further, as Dylan came into view and called out their names. I watched him embrace Janis. Then he gathered her daughter up in his arms and swung her around. She giggled and began to blurt out an incomprehensible string of sentences.

  ‘Hi,’ I finally called down to them, my observations over.

  Janis looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun with her right hand. ‘Hi, Freya. Good to see you again. This is my daughter, E-J.’ She looked around at her daughter, but she was too preoccupied with Dylan’s rough-and-tumble games to notice.

  I was immediately struck by how much more alive and relaxed Janis looked when not in the presence of her mother.

  Dylan eventually stopped and put E-J back down on the cobbles. ‘Glad you’re awake. Put something on and come on down!’

  I needed no further encouragement. I hurriedly dressed, then brushed the tangles out of my hair. Before long I was down at the front door, welcoming the guests over the threshold.

  Janis put her hand in mine and gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘Hope Dylan’s been treating you well?’

  I nodded, as E-J raced past between us and sank to the floor, cuddling Quasi and tickling his tummy.

  ‘Calm down a little, E-J! I know you’re excited, but there are limits.’

  ‘OK, Mummy,’ she answered, yet carried on in the same manner as before.

  Yasuko entered the room, carrying a tray.

  Dylan looked u
p. ‘Ah, tea. That’s great, Yasuko. Let’s have it on the terrace.’

  We all ventured back outside, Dylan leading the way.

  ‘How’s business?’ Dylan enquired, sitting down at the garden table and motioning for us to follow suit.

  ‘Booming, Dyl. I’ve got a full quota for next week and the bookings are well up on last year. I’m rushed off my feet.’

  I observed Janis closely as they became absorbed in conversation about her rock-climbing school.

  E-J, laughing merrily, ran across the lawn; the dog trailed after her, panting. She threw a Frisbee in a long trajectory through the air and I watched Quasi time his jump to perfection, catching it firmly in his jaws. I applauded and ran over to join them. I’d always had a certain rapport with children, so it didn’t take me long to win her trust. I became so lost in merriment that it took Dylan several calls to draw our game to a conclusion when the refreshments were ready to serve.

  I collapsed into a chair beside them, mopping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. ‘Phew,’ I said, and guzzled down some lemonade, as Yasuko stooped over us to pour out tea for the others.

  ‘You play well, Freya. Ever thought of working with children?’

  ‘No, Janis. You looking to give me a job?’ I chuckled.

  ‘We’re always after team leaders to compliment our instructors. They take care of the guests once the rock-climbing sessions are over. But I don’t suppose Dylan’ll let you go. At least not until he’s dumped you.”

  I flushed.

  Dylan glared at Janis and nudged her side with his elbow.

  ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, and picked up her teacup, perhaps to hide behind it.

  I shifted back in the chair as E-J jumped into my lap.

  ‘Careful, love.’

  ‘It’s OK, Janis,’ I said, putting an arm around the child. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘I’m eight,’ she said proudly, wriggling on my legs to find the most comfortable spot.

  I felt something in my back pocket. I reached around and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. ‘Oh, Dylan, I almost forgot: this is for you.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s from Emily.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before,’ he said, ripping it out of my hand and unfolding it impatiently. He frowned as he read her scrawled words.

  ‘What’s she say?’ Janis asked.

  He passed her the note. ‘She’s leaving on Saturday. Wants me to come and say goodbye.’

  ‘That’s tomorrow,’ Janis said. ‘It says here she’s not coming back. She came to see me yesterday. Said more or less the same thing. She says she’s going to change, Dyl. And that you’re not going to like it.’

  Dylan grabbed back the note and scrunched it up in his fist before pounding the table. This dislodged my drink, which cascaded all over E-J and me. We leapt to our feet, she giggling, me cursing.

  ‘Sorry,’ Dylan said, as I picked up a napkin and did my best to soak up the moisture on E-J’s summer frock.

  Janis put her arm around his shoulder. ‘You’ve got to let her go. We all have. She’ll come back eventually.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ I said, destroying what little comfort Dylan had drawn from Janis’s words.

  Janis scowled at me and drew herself nearer to Dylan. ‘It’ll be all right. After all, you’ve still got me.’

  He put on a strained smile.

  ‘It’s no good, E-J. This stuff’s never going to come out.’ I cursed again, more at Janis’s over-familiarity with Dylan, than with the stains on our clothing. ‘Come on, let’s go inside and get changed. Has she got anything else to wear?’

  ‘Yes, she knows where to find it. She’s got her own bedroom here.’

  We withdrew inside, leaving them to it. I helped E-J to shower, before doing the same myself. She talked the whole time without any let up, about the fun she was going to have now school had broken up for the summer.

  When we returned to the garden, Yasuko was clearing away the things from an empty table.

  ‘Where’ve they gone?’

  Down to the bridge.

  ‘The bridge? Why?’ I said.

  ‘I know. Mummy’s told me all about it, come on.’ She took me by the hand and hurried me around the side of the building and down the drive.

  ‘Slow down. Slow down.’ I was puffed out.

  She took no notice, accelerating away ahead and out of sight.

  Dylan was leaning on the parapet of the bridge when I arrived, talking with E-J.

  ‘Where’s Janis?’

  Dylan simply tapped a rope.

  I followed its course over the masonry and peeked over the edge. ‘Oh, dear God!’ I cried, ‘she’ll fall!’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ E-J retorted.

  I stole another look over the edge. Janis was suspended on the rope, attached to a climbing harness, halfway down the wall. Below her lay a sheer drop into the gorge.

  ‘Oh, I can’t look!’ I said, clutching onto Dylan and burying my head into his chest.

  Dylan laughed, shaking his head.

  ‘Why is she being so silly? It’s only abseiling. When do I get a turn?’

  ‘When Mummy’s ready.’

  ‘You’re not letting her go down there!’

  ‘Yes, why not? Once Janis has checked it out. You can have a go, too, if you like.’

  ‘No way!’ I clutched him tighter.

  ‘Chicken!’ E-J strutted around in a circle, flapping her arms and making clucking noises. She stopped only when Dylan chided her.

  ‘Do you know how far it is to the ground over that edge?’ I said, turning to face her.

  ‘Yes. It’s only about forty feet, Mummy told me.’

  ‘Only! Phew! What’s she doing down there, anyway?’

  ‘She’s checking it out as a possible abseiling venue for her school.’ Dylan said. ‘She uses local rock faces and a couple of artificial towers in her own grounds. But the beauty of this bridge is its archway halfway down. You can bounce out and swing underneath it.’

  I plucked up the courage to peer over the edge again and saw Janis whizzing down the rope. I grabbed Dylan by the arm. ‘She’s falling! She’s falling!’

  E-J launched herself up onto the parapet. ‘You really are a silly billy, aren’t you? She’s just having some fun.’

  I felt sick, cramping in my stomach. But E-J was right. Janis slowed in an arc and landed safely on the bank of the ghyll below. Then she looked up and waved.

  I crouched down by the side of the wall. Dylan ruffled my hair and laughed along with E-J. It wasn’t long before Janis had clambered up a hidden set of steps through the rhododendrons.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Dylan said, when she returned.

  She stood over me, pieces of metal climbing gear clinking on her harness as she took off her gloves. ‘There’s quite a lot of moss and lichen on the masonry. We’ll have to clean that off. Then there’ll have to be a platform up here against the parapet for easier access. Might be a little unsightly.’

  ‘We can work on it.’

  ‘What about your privacy?’

  ‘Well, as long as you tell me in advance, and you don’t let any of the party past this point, I reckon I can agree.’

  ‘And what about your fee?’

  ‘I’m sure that can be negotiated in due course,’ he said, leaning over as she kissed him and hugged him. I couldn’t help noticing the way his hand had crept onto her backside.

  E-J saw this and giggled, and they broke away from each other in response to this.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy, when is it my go?’

  ‘Calm down. Dylan has first choice, since he owns the bridge. You can go after him….’

  ‘Goody, goody….’

  ‘But only if you get more sensible.’

  ‘Yes, Mummy, yes Mummy.’

  ‘Good. Then Freya can have a go after you.’

  ‘No way!’ I started to back away from the wall.

  They were having none of it. The
y all climbed into a harness and put on a helmet and made me do the same.

  ‘Tie up your hair, like E-J has done,’ Janis said. ‘We don’t want such lovely blonde locks getting caught in the device. Otherwise I’ll have to come down beside you on the wall with a pair of pinking shears!’

  This seemed to be well-rehearsed banter, but it didn’t put me at ease.

  Dylan placed his arm around me for reassurance, whilst Janis set up a safety rope.

  ‘You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to.’

  Janis ignored Dylan’s comments, and I could sense she saw in me her latest challenge. ‘The worst thing is trusting the ropes and leaning back at the start, so you get almost at right angles to the wall. Then you simply walk backwards down the masonry, legs apart for balance. You feed the rope through this figure-of-eight,’ she tapped a piece of gear clipped onto my harness, ‘keeping your hand firmly by your hip. Don’t let it travel up the rope or you may get it caught in the device. Don’t fancy mincemeat fingers, do you?’

  I gulped.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll have you on this green rope all the time, so I’d stop you before it got to that point. You can control your descent yourself by wrapping the rope around your bum to stop.’ She demonstrated. ‘And you can pay it out at whatever rate you want. Watch the others first.’

  Dylan climbed into position, leant out over the edge and descended steadily. Then he did a small leap, paid out the rope and swung under the arch.

  I clutched at my chest, as I began to hyperventilate. I calmed only when Dylan reappeared and sank slowly to the ground safely.

  ‘My go, Mummy! My go!’

  E-J was quickly in position. Before I could comprehend what was happening, she’d disappeared over the side with a high-pitched ‘Yippee!’ By the time I’d braved a glance over the edge, she was swinging in a huge arc under the archway.

  ‘Go, E-J. Go!’ Dylan called in admiration, as she eased further down the rope and into his arms at the bottom.

  ‘Christ, she was fast!’

  ‘Yes. Now it’s your turn.’

  ‘No way, Janis, no way!’ Even as I said these words I knew I had to do it. I didn’t want to be shown up by an eight-year-old, even if she’d probably been doing this since she was in nappies. Janis’s closeness to Dylan had also awakened a strong competitive streak in me.