Freya's Quest Read online

  I waited until the others had returned. They uttered words of encouragement as Janis guided me into position, facing her, feet wide apart and set half over the parapet.

  ‘Now lean back….slowly….it’s all right, I’ve got you on safety, you can’t go anywhere.’

  I wasn’t convinced. I felt my legs beginning to shake. I gazed at Dylan for inspiration. He winked. It didn’t help. Then I made the fatal mistake of looking down between my legs to the raging ghyll below.

  I started to panic. ‘No. No. I can’t do this.’ Instinctively, I clutched the rope above the device with both hands.

  ‘Yes, you can.’ She placed my hands back into position. ‘Ease back slowly….that’s it. Keep your hand behind your hip.’

  ‘Thumb up your bum!’ E-J called out mischievously, knowing her mother was too busy with me to reprimand her.

  I gently fed out the rope and sank down lower.

  ‘That’s it, trust the ropes. Sit in your harness. Legs straight and wide apart. I’m sure you’ve had enough practice at that since being with Dylan.’

  I grunted, too panicked to respond. I edged outwards a little more.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ I felt myself sinking backwards too fast for comfort.

  ‘No, my name’s Janis actually.’

  ‘Oh, funny ha ha!’

  ‘That’s it. Start moving slowly backwards. Now look, you’re away.’

  ‘You’re doing it, you’re really doing it!’ E-J sounded surprised.

  With increasing trepidation, I crept backwards down the wall, feeding the rope out slowly, the others shouting out words of encouragement from above. I didn’t dare look up.

  ‘Right, you’re at the arch now. Bend your knees in, then spring off and widen your arm so you can pay out lots of rope. When you’ve got down low enough to clear the top of the arch, bring your rope hand right around your hip again….’

  ‘Thumb up the bum!’

  ‘Yes, all right E-J!’

  ‘Sorry, Mummy.’

  I felt myself losing it. My legs were shaking violently. My bowels were loosening as well. And now Janis wasn’t even concentrating on me.

  ‘I can’t go on any more.’

  ‘Yes, you can.’

  Dylan went over to the steps and came down until he was horizontal with my position. ‘Come on, be brave.’

  ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘Cowardy custard!’

  E-J’s teasing was my spur to action. ‘I’m going to get you later, Mr. Quest!’ I shut my eyes tight, then leapt out from the side of the wall.

  I felt a great rush of air and exhilaration. ‘Fuckin’ ’ell!’

  I was so lost I forgot all the instructions about what I was supposed to be doing, until I felt the jerk of the safety rope coming into effect instead. I swung backwards and forwards under the arch, the sounds of the ghyll getting louder in my ears. I wanted the swinging to stop, but I still had around ten feet to go.

  ‘You all right?’ Janis yelled down, getting a little concerned.

  I managed to mumble a faint affirmative.

  ‘Let out the rope again slowly. That’s it, you’re nearly there.’

  It seemed an eternity before I fell into Dylan’s strong arms and he lowered me onto the bank on my back. He kissed me and stroked back my hair.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yes, just about.’

  He looked relieved.

  ‘Great one, Freya. Now let’s go again. You’ll perfect it next time!’ came the cry from high above.

  ‘She can’t be serious, Dylan. I’m not doing that again!’

  He burst out laughing and tried to embrace me. I pushed him away and staggered back towards the steps.

  - XI -

  A SWIM AND a long steam in the sauna was the only thing I could think of which would relax me after my ordeal with the abseiling. Janis and Dylan’s bantering was later replaced by an over-eagerness to reassure me when I struggled to calm myself down. I loathed such mollycoddling. I also loathed their closeness. Pangs of jealousy were set off at each of their interactions. I needed time to myself.

  I was roused from my reverie by Yasuko’s ringing of the dinner gong. I dressed in fresh clothes and joined everyone at the table. Dylan and Janis came in arm-in-arm. I ignored them, turning to hug E-J when she skipped in as boisterous as ever.

  ‘Where have you been? I’ve had no one to play with.’

  ‘What d’you mean, E-J? Where was your Mummy?’ I asked.

  ‘She was in the bedroom….with Dylan….’

  Janis glared at her.

  E-J looked all the more mischievous. ‘Kissing and cuddling….naughty things.’

  ‘That’s quite enough, young lady,’ Janis said, whipping the back of E-J’s legs with her hand. ‘Now go to your room!’

  E-J was too stunned to cry at first. Then the pain began to register and she wailed. ‘I hate you! I hate you!’ came her forlorn cries as she ran off down the corridor. The dog, who’d been curled up in his basket in the kitchen, got up and scampered after her.

  ‘Was that really necessary?’ I said, aghast at her admonishment.

  Janis sank into a chair, elbows on the table, head in hands. ‘No, probably not. But she’s got to learn. She never listens and she’s so impolite at times.’

  Dylan put his arm on her shoulder and sat down beside her.

  I scowled. ‘She’ll never improve if you mete out punishment so indiscriminately.’

  Dylan looked at me hard. ‘A slap or two never harmed me.’

  ‘Huh!’ I dragged my chair out, its legs screeching on the tiled floor, and sat down. ‘Hitting someone because you’ve been caught out is no way to deal with the guilt.’

  Janis looked up and was about to retaliate when my thoughts struck home.

  Now I realized I had another rival to contend with.

  Yasuko came in with a big bowl of vegetables and returned several more times with the rest of the food. We all sat in silence.

  ‘Are you going to say goodbye to Emily?’ I said, as we began to eat.

  ‘Yes, tomorrow morning, I think.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘Yes, by all means, if you want to.’ He sounded pleasant enough, but underneath I detected he’d rather have gone alone.

  Yasuko came in and, after seeking permission from Dylan, sat down with us at the table. She was dressed in a pink kimono today and was heavily made-up. It made her look tawdry. Her mascara had run a little, as if she’d been crying.

  We ate on in silence. Tension building.

  Yasuko pulled her notebook from her pouch and scribbled down a message, passing it to me.

  Where’s the Austin-Healey?

  ‘Oh, God! I was with Emily. I forgot all about the car.’

  Dylan didn’t look too happy after he’d snatched the note from my grasp and read it. ‘Freya, where is it?’

  ‘Don’t panic. It’s OK. It’s in a car park.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘It’s in Borrowdale. At the Bowderstone.’

  ‘Borrowd’l’? That’s miles away!’

  ‘It’ll be safe enough,’ I said, feeling a little worried. ‘Won’t it?’

  ‘How long’s it been sitting there?’ Dylan said.

  I had to think for a minute. ‘Since yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, how could you!’ he fumed.

  ‘I’m sorry. But you said it was my car and I could do what I like with it.’

  ‘True,’ he said. ‘If there’s anything left of it by the time you get around to retrieving it.’

  ‘Oh.’ I bowed my head, feeling shamed. ‘Might it be stolen?’

  ‘Yes, or broken into,’ Janis interjected. ‘It’s so irresponsible, Freya. Mountain Rescue may even’ve been called out.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Someone might think the owner’s lost up the hill!’

  ‘Oh, Janis, right. I didn’t think,’ I said ruefully.

  ‘I thought you were more sensible than that,�
� Dylan said.

  Janis smirked.

  Dylan gave Janis a curt look. ‘Maybe it was Emily’s influence. Never mind. We can pick it up tonight.’

  ‘OK.’

  More silence followed. Time seemed to stand still. Only Yasuko collecting up the dishes and bringing in the dessert gave me any kind of boundary.

  Finally, I spoke. ‘What’s that painting doing in the stables?’

  Dylan didn’t answer.

  ‘What painting?’ Janis was suddenly animated.

  ‘Well, I was getting in the car when I saw this frame poking out of a sack.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Dylan mumbled under his breath.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well….’ I said nervously. ‘It was a painting of your father, Sir Frederick.’

  ‘What!’ She turned to Dylan in horror. ‘You told me you’d got rid of that years ago!’

  ‘Well, you must understand why I couldn’t do it, love,’ he said, extending his arms to placate her.

  ‘OK, I do. But you could’ve destroyed it for me. Like I asked you to.’ She put her head in her hands, rubbing her face wildly until her skin began to redden.

  Dylan tried to put his arms around her again.

  She pushed him away ferociously, rising from her chair, her face boiling. ‘You know how much I hated him!’ With nostrils flaring, she seized her fork in a clenched fist and waved it at Dylan. ‘You bastard, I hate him!’

  Then she thrust the fork down on the table and stormed off.

  I looked at the quivering silver, the prongs embedded in the oak.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ He looked resigned, not angry. ‘I’d better go ’n’ see if she’s all right.’

  He didn’t give me a chance to defend myself. I sat back in my chair, folding my arms tightly and letting out a heavy sigh. ‘How was I supposed to know?’ I said, turning to Yasuko.

  She shrugged her shoulders and set about removing the fork from the table top.

  I helped Yasuko with the dishes, despite her body language which suggested Dylan wouldn’t like it, and then went off to find E-J, taking her a tray of food.

  I could hear Janis ranting on at Dylan in the bedroom next door. I tried to distract E-J, but to little avail. When the noises died away, E-J’s anxieties dissipated. Then she was happy to play doll’s houses with me until her Mummy came in, dried tears staining her face, to tuck E-J into bed for the night.

  Two hours passed before Dylan came and found me in the library. He’d continued to comfort Janis, which escalated my jealousy. I occupied my time by reading the last few pages of Dylan’s novel. Its exciting finale gripped me enough to put earlier events and emotions out of mind.

  ‘Come on, find your coat and keys,’ he said, ruffling my hair. ‘Let’s go and get the car.’

  We spent the entire journey to the Bowderstone in silence. By the time he pulled the Land Rover up beside the Austin-Healey, dusk was falling. He climbed out and inspected the car.

  ‘All looks well, Freya. You’re lucky this time.’

  I came up to him and hugged him. ‘I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.’

  ‘What, leaving the car or upsetting Janis?’

  I backed away from him and leant against the side of the Land Rover, folding my arms and looking downcast.

  ‘Hey, cheer up, I was only joking!’ He grinned and encouraged me back into his arms. ‘Janis’ll be all right. She’s angry with me, not you. You weren’t to know how she felt about her father.’

  I snuggled up into his chest and he held me tighter.

  ‘Her raw hatred frightened me.’

  He kissed me on the forehead. ‘Don’t worry yourself about it. She’s right. I should’ve got rid of it years ago. I could never hang it in the house.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I despised the man as much as Janis did.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just sell it, then? Or give it to Veronica?’

  ‘Janis would never’ve allowed that. You saw her reaction. No, I couldn’t sell it, nor destroy it.’

  ‘Why ever not? Better than gathering dust.’

  ‘Because, paradoxically, it was one of Sera’s greatest works.’

  He was back inside the Land Rover before I had fully digested the statement.

  He waited for me to climb into the Austin-Healey, then allowed me to head off first. I took my time driving up the narrow roads, watching the moonlight shimmering upon the surface of Derwentwater. I wound down the window to let in a breeze. I was struggling to concentrate. I couldn’t stop thinking about Janis. So meek in the presence of her mother. So brave and adventurous on her own. So deeply vulnerable underneath.

  Dylan remained firmly on my bumper all the way back, as if impatient with my slow progress. But I wasn’t going to be hurried.

  Not before time, I drove up the driveway and through the gatehouse to the inner courtyard. Once through the arch, I immediately slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt, skidding on the gravel. I heard the Land Rover doing the same behind me, swerving to the side of my car. He slapped the steering wheel, greatly annoyed, looking straight at me.

  I hauled myself through the window and sat on the door. And pointed.

  There, in the middle of the courtyard, was a brazier. Janis was standing behind it, pouring an accelerant of some kind over the contents. The moonlight made the gilding glitter.

  Dylan frantically fought with his seat belt. By the time he’d opened the door, Janis had struck a match, which illuminated her grief-stricken face.

  As Dylan ran towards her, the flames erupted into the night sky. Janis calmly took a step backwards, unperturbed by the sudden heat, eyes widening in wonder.

  Dylan tried to pull the painting from the flames, but he was beaten back by the heat. He kicked the brazier over onto the gravel, scattering embers everywhere.

  When he extinguished the fire with a hose from the stables, all he could retrieve from the ashes was one charred corner of the frame and the blackened brass plaque.

  He sat down on the cobbles, mopping the sweat and the soot from his forehead, allowing the water from the hose he still held to cascade over him. He gazed into space.

  And there was nothing I could do to console him.

  - XII -

  DYLAN DROVE ALONG the road out of Keswick in silence. It was the same route we’d taken last night, but only in daylight could the striking scenery be appreciated. The small road wound around the indented shores of Derwentwater. Pine trees and crags towered above us. Across the water came the occasional sight of a secluded isle. Beyond this lay a green-grey ridge, bathed in the morning sunshine. We crossed an ancient bridge, after the end of the lake but before the Jaws of Borrowdale. The small settlement of Grange was nestled on the other side.

  Tourists were out in force everywhere, so it took us some time to drive down the narrow track running parallel to the river. He parked the Land Rover on the edge of a campground. We walked slowly along the track. Tents were pitched everywhere. There were several walled enclosures and other areas cleared beneath the trees, where camps had been set up.

  Along with the ordinary walkers one might expect, two more unconventional groups were in evidence. The first was a war-gaming society, and every now and then, we could hear the cries of mock battles. Then, some of them emerged through the trees, authentically dressed in Anglo-Saxon attire and wielding fake axes and swords.

  The other group was the band of motorcyclists we sought. Down near the river, there was a meadow of parked Triumphs, Nortons, BSAs and other makes from a bygone age, some sporting weird handlebars and assorted customizations. The men and women who owned and rode these machines must have numbered about thirty. All were dressed in black leathers, the backs of their jackets displaying the gremlin chapter motif Emily had shown me the day before yesterday. Some lay around on the ground, much the worse for drink and drugs. Others were servicing or cleaning their bikes.

  ‘Freya, you sure this is the right group?’

  �
��Don’t worry,’ I whispered, ‘we’ve definitely come to the right place.’

  A giant of a man strode forward, full of purpose, his face mean and battle-scarred. ‘Don’t wan’ anyone ’roun’ ’ere. Keep awfft!’

  ‘We wouldn’t ordinarily intrude on you people, but one of you’s expecting us….Emily Faversham?’

  The man appeared puzzled at first, tugging at his mammoth-like beard. ‘Oh, yea mean Emmy, the one from up road?’

  Dylan nodded.

  ‘Well, she’s my girl. Be’ave yousself.’ He did not wait for a reply, but walked straight over to a weather-beaten tent.

  Moments later, a woman appeared.

  Dylan was about to ask her where Emily was when the awful truth dawned on him – she was standing right in front of him.

  His jaw dropped.

  ‘What’s the matter, Dylan? Don’t you like the new me?’ She stared at him with a vacant smile, posing to show off her new look.

  Her lovely jet-black hair had all but gone. Most of her head was shaved to the skin. The remnants of her hair were elevated in a number of long spikes in a fusion of purple and orange. Silver rings ran all the way down the sides of her ears to the lobes. Two silver studs pierced either side of her nose, with connecting chains to her ears. Her eyes were heavily made-up in black, forming patterns which complemented her hairstyle. She wore a cross and chain around her neck; a black miniskirt upon which even more chains were mounted; and a dirty-white T-shirt torn for fashionable effect, and so tight as to suggest piercings to the navel and nipples.

  When she realized Dylan was too dazed to speak, she merely took his hand and guided him up the slope and into the trees. They stopped in a blasted-out enclave, an old relic of quarrying.

  The giant-man, unimpressed, retreated to his tent.

  I was left wondering whether to follow Dylan and Emily, or wait within the camp. I decided on the latter. Before too long Dylan came pounding down the slope. I went up to meet him, but he thrust past me.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  He didn’t answer.

  I went to find Emily. She was lying prone on the ground on her front. Her skirt had risen enough for me to realize she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. There were partially revealed tattoos, of what looked like dragons, on each buttock.