The Language of Spells (28 page)

Miraculously, they found a place to park at the hospital. Even more amazingly, Gwen made it to the right department without fainting.

‘She’s not awake yet,’ the nurse at the desk said. ‘You can go in, but just for a minute.’ The nurse had curly brown hair tied in a very high ponytail. It looked insultingly jaunty to Gwen but, at that moment, everything did. How could people be walking around, talking on their mobiles, eating chocolate bars,
breathing
, when Katie was critically ill? It wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right.

Ruby and David looked up as they walked into the room and then looked straight back to Katie. Gwen thought she’d prepared herself for the sight of Katie in a hospital bed, but she was nowhere even close to ready. Katie looked so young. Just a little child again. She was lying unnaturally straight, her hands lying neatly at her sides on top of several layers of blankets.

‘They warmed her up,’ Ruby whispered. ‘Her core temperature was really low. Hypothermia.’

‘They said she was really lucky,’ David was whispering, too. ‘Another hour out there and—’

‘Don’t,’ Ruby said. ‘Don’t say it.’

‘Is she all right?’ Gwen said, stepping closer to the bed. She reached out and touched Katie’s hand. The one that didn’t have tubes coming out of the back.

‘They don’t know. She hasn’t woken up yet. They don’t know how long it’ll be.’

A nurse appeared, wheeling a portable blood pressure monitor. ‘You’ll have to go now. Only two at a time.’

‘Call me later,’ Gwen said.

Ruby didn’t look up, and Gwen’s last impression was of her sister’s hunched form, bent over Katie’s bedside.

Back at End House, Cam went upstairs and ran a bath. He poured a glass of wine and pushed it into Gwen’s hand. ‘Drink this, then go and have a soak. It’ll help.’

‘Okay.’ Gwen hadn’t realised that she was shivering. The red wine slopped about in the glass until she held it with both hands.

Cam rubbed soothing circles on her lower back as she sipped her drink. ‘You found her; she’s safe.’

Gwen felt the tears well up again and she buried her head in Cam’s shoulder, breathing in his scent and letting the pressure of his arms soothe her. ‘What if she isn’t okay, though? What if she doesn’t wake up?’

‘She will,’ Cam said.

Gwen thought that if she voiced her worst fear, perhaps she’d feel better. She didn’t. The tears kept falling until they were dripping off her chin. She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve.

‘Are you hungry? Shall I order a takeaway?’

‘Not for me,’ Gwen said.

‘You need to eat something.’

‘Okay,’ Gwen said. She realised that she hadn’t eaten that day. She took another hit of wine, willing it to undo the knot in her stomach.

‘Right.’ Cam started hunting around the kitchen. ‘Do you have any menus?’

‘Just put the cannelloni in the oven. It’ll be ready in forty minutes.’ Gwen hesitated as Cam looked at her, suddenly wary. The cannelloni. Their big argument. It seemed to belong to a different time.

‘About that…’ he began.

Gwen shook her head. There was no room for anything else right now. She went upstairs to the bathroom before he could say anything else.

She soaked in the bath and tried to stop crying. Every time she thought she was getting a handle on the situation, she would think about how Ruby must be feeling or about how pale and young Katie had looked, and she started sobbing again.

She had just got into some clean clothes and into the living room, when the doorbell rang. Cam jumped up from the sofa. ‘I’ll tell them to sod off,’ he said.

But he didn’t come back through. After a couple of minutes, Gwen followed him and found an uncomfortable-looking Harry in her hallway with an older man in a police uniform.

‘Katie’s fine,’ Cam said immediately. ‘No change.’ He put an arm around her shoulder.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said. ‘I need to ask you a few questions.’ He gestured to the uniform. ‘This is PC Albion.’ PC Albion was gazing around as if he’d never been inside a house before. ‘We can do it here, though,’ Harry added.

‘What the bloody hell is going on? Harry? Is this an official visit?’ Cam looked tense, Gwen realised with a jolt of fear.

She moved out from under his arm. ‘I’ll make tea. Make yourselves at home.’ She escaped to the kitchen to do some deep breathing. The penny dropped. Harry meant questions here, rather than at the police station. Something was very wrong.
No, no, no. Not again.

She flicked the switch on the kettle and got out mugs. The kitchen looked the same. The dresser looked the same. The cupboards were still perky lemon and the mugs were still aqua polka dot, but there was something wrong with the picture. Oh yes, the police were sitting on her sofa waiting to question her.

She carried a tray into the living room and PC Albion jumped up to help her with it. Everything was surreally polite and calm.

‘Okay, Gwen. First off, I need to ask where you were last night. It’s routine.’

‘I was here.’ Gwen sat in the armchair by the door.

‘Alone?’

‘Yes.’

Harry looked questioningly at Cam. ‘You weren’t with her?’

Cam shook his head, looking furious. ‘Don’t say anything else, Gwen.’

Harry met his stare without flinching. ‘Gwen has agreed to answer a few routine questions. It would be better if she does so.’

‘In her home, Harry?’

‘Not if you prefer we relocate to the station.’ Harry’s voice was even and toneless. Then he said in his normal voice, ‘Come on, man, don’t make this harder than it already is.’

‘Make what harder?’ Gwen said.

Harry was still looking at Cam. ‘If I don’t follow procedure, I could make things worse.’

‘Make what worse? Katie’s definitely okay, isn’t she?’ Her heart clenched. ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘Nothing.’ Harry looked uncomfortable, and Gwen would’ve felt sorry for him, but there wasn’t any room in her mind for it. This whole thing was so weird and she was exhausted from not sleeping the night before,;the adrenaline that had kept her going while they were looking for Katie had ebbed away, leaving her shaky and tearful. She blinked. Harry was speaking and she needed to concentrate.

‘So, you say you were here last night,’ Harry said. ‘Did you see anyone at all? Speak to anyone on the telephone?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Can you remember the last time you saw Katie?’

‘At the hospital.’

‘And before that?’

‘I’m not sure. A few days ago.’ Gwen closed her eyes to force her brain into proper activity. ‘She came round after school on Monday. We made cakes.’

Harry nodded. PC Albion wrote something down in his notebook.

Gwen waited.

‘And how would you characterise your relationship?’

‘She’s my niece,’ Gwen said.

‘Do you get on well?’ Harry said.

‘I think so. Yes.’

‘How would you characterise her mood?’

‘In general?’ Gwen said.

‘The last time you saw her.’

‘On Monday?’

He nodded.

‘She was fine,’ Gwen said. ‘A bit wound up from school, I suppose, but fine.’

‘Has she seemed depressed lately?’

‘No.’

‘Angry?’

Gwen shrugged. ‘She’s fourteen.’

Harry gave a small smile. ‘I’m trying to ascertain her state of mind last night.’

‘Why not ask her?’ Too late, Gwen realised that he couldn’t. She felt her throat close up.

‘Once Katie’s awake, I’m sure we’ll be able to clear all of this up,’ Harry said, ‘but, in the meantime, I’ve got to write a report.’

‘I don’t know why you’re asking about her state of mind. Why does it matter?’

‘What do you mean?’ Harry said.

‘She went missing. That’s not like her. She’s a really good kid. And she was found unconscious. Clearly something happened to her.’

‘Clearly.’ Harry paused. ‘What we don’t know is how she got to the folly and what she was doing there.’

‘What if she was taken there? She could’ve been abducted.’ Gwen shook her head in frustration. ‘Why are you asking me? Isn’t it your job to figure out what happened?’

‘Oh, we will, Ms Harper,’ PC Albion said and Harry shot him a filthy look.

‘The thing is,’ Harry said, ‘there’s some question as to how you found Katie. If you weren’t involved with her, um, mishap, how did you know where to look?’

Gwen felt sick.

‘And you do have a history. Of this kind of thing, I mean. The Stephen Knight case.’ Harry looked uncomfortable.

Gwen felt the room swoop to the left. ‘I had nothing to do with his accident. Or suicide. Whichever you people decided it was.’ Gwen’s hands were curled into fists and she dug her nails into her palms.

‘Gwen has a supernatural ability to find things that are lost,’ Cam said calmly and Gwen almost fell off her chair.

PC Albion’s head shot up, while Harry just gazed steadily at Cam.

‘I don’t understand it,’ Cam said. ‘I don’t know whether it’s a special kind of intuition or what, but Gwen can find things. That’s how she knew where Katie was.’

‘You want that on record?’ Harry said.

‘I am willing to swear to it in court,’ Cam said. ‘However, this interview is at an end. If you want to charge Gwen, charge her. Otherwise you’re going to have to leave.’

‘It would be best if she cooperated. Certain allegations have been made, and we have to investigate those allegations fully.’

‘I’ll cooperate. I want to help,’ Gwen said, standing up. Harry shot her such a look of sweet exasperation that she felt her knees buckle. She sat down again.

Cam didn’t turn around. ‘Harry is doing his job, but he wants you to listen to me. Can you do that? Please?’

‘Okay,’ Gwen said, giving up on understanding what the hell was going on.

Cam followed Harry and PC Albion to the door. When he came back into the living room, his expression was grim. ‘They’re coming back with a warrant. Apparently they received some kind of tip-off.’

‘But I haven’t done anything.’

‘I know. But we need to prepare.’

Gwen stood up. ‘But—’

‘Trust me.’ Cam tried to smile. ‘I’m your lawyer.’

‘Lily Thomas,’ Gwen said. ‘She wants me out of here, she wants to get into the house and steal Iris’s journals. I bet she’s the one who’s made allegations. I think she left me that rabbit.’ Gwen swallowed. ‘I know you think I’m crazy—’

‘I don’t,’ Cam said. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand it, but I believe you. This unusual ability is real and it probably saved Katie’s life today. I’m not going to be the one to argue with that.’

‘What about Lily?’ Gwen was half out of her chair again. God knew what else that woman had planned, what she’d planted in the house before calling the police. Taking advantage of her opportunity. Gwen felt a bitter taste in her mouth and forced herself to swallow before she threw up.

‘Sit down,’ Cam said. ‘Breathe. I’m going to call Harry. And Elaine.’

Gwen launched upright, the blood rushing to her head and making her giddy. ‘Your mother?’

Cam looked uncomfortable. ‘She came to see me yesterday. Said that Lily had come to her for advice on contesting Iris’s will. She said that Lily had some idea of getting you out of the house permanently.’

‘What?’

‘I was going to tell you, but when Katie went missing it got pushed out of my head.’

‘What else did she say?’

‘Just that the title deeds for the house were in the safe in my grandfather’s office. I don’t know why I didn’t look there before. I’m sorry.’

‘You’ve had a lot on your plate,’ Gwen said faintly, trying to process the information.

‘If we have evidence that Lily has been executing a campaign of harassment, that’ll weaken any case she’s trying to make against you.’

‘Right.’ Gwen’s legs went liquid and she sat down.

‘Go to bed,’ Cam said. ‘Get some rest, I’ll be up in a little while.’

Upstairs, underneath the covers in her brass bed, Gwen listened to the sound of Cam pacing downstairs, the rumble of his voice as he made call after call. There was something to be said for not being alone, she thought. Cat curled up next to her stomach, a giant furry hot water bottle and, without intending to, Gwen slipped into sleep.

The next day, Gwen expected Cam to go into work, but he didn’t. He drove to the hospital and sat outside in the corridor while Gwen sat with Katie. Ruby was hollow-eyed and exhausted.

‘Have you slept?’ Gwen said.

‘I don’t feel like it, but I must’ve dozed off at some point. I dreamed that Katie woke up.’ Ruby’s voice broke and Gwen reached out to take her hand.

Katie was pale and too still for Gwen to kid herself that she was just sleeping. ‘Do they know anything else? Have they said—’

Ruby shook her head. ‘David’s gone home to get some stuff for Katie. No one will tell me how long she’ll be like this. They say we’ve got to wait and see.’

Wait and see. Gwen squeezed Ruby’s hand. ‘She’s going to be okay. She’s going to wake up.’

‘They said there might be brain damage. From the hypothermia. They won’t know until she wakes up.’

‘Oh Christ.’

Tears squeezed out from under Ruby’s eyelids. ‘I keep thinking I’ll stop crying soon. That there won’t be anything left. I keep waiting to go numb. I thought people went numb in situations like this. But I don’t.’

‘What can I do?’ Gwen said.

‘You found her,’ Ruby said. She looked away from Katie, then straight into Gwen’s eyes. ‘I’ll never forget that.’

Later, when Harry called Gwen and asked her to come down to the station to make an official statement, Cam insisted on coming with her. ‘Don’t you have to go to the office today?’

‘Sod the office,’ Cam said.

Walking back into Pendleford police station, Gwen was expecting to be hit by bad memories of Stephen Knight, but her system was overloaded by worry for Katie. Plus, this time she wasn’t eighteen years old and it wasn’t an unknown policeman but Harry on the other side of the desk. He kept apologising. ‘Just got to follow the routine,’ he said. ‘Got to make sure I do my job. It’s to protect you.’

Cam still looked like he wanted to punch something, but Gwen was glad he was there. He was infinitely gentle and calm with her. Fetching bottled water and putting his hand comfortingly on the middle of her back while she wrote her statement.

When PC Albion came in and asked whether Cam should be in the room, he said, ‘I’m her lawyer.’

At the same time Harry said, ‘Back off.’

She rang David and heard the report on Katie. No change. ‘She should’ve woken up by now,’ he said. ‘The doctor doesn’t know why she hasn’t. He said there’s no medical reason, but that sometimes people’s bodies just react this way after a shock. They shut down for a while. Her system is just rebooting itself or something.’

David sounded determinedly calm and confident. Gwen knew he was reassuring himself with the words and she was quick to agree with him.

Hanging up in the empty house, Cat winding around her ankles, Gwen felt the false confidence evaporate.

The next day, Gwen woke up as Cam slipped out of bed. He was moving quietly, trying not to wake her, and Gwen kept her eyes shut. She wasn’t ready to face the day. Not a day that included Katie being ill. The pain knifed through her and she curled around it. Another day in which Katie was lying in a hospital bed and people thought, actually believed, that she could’ve had something to do with it. Gwen squeezed her eyes shut.

‘There’s someone at the door,’ Cam whispered. ‘I’ll get rid of them. You go back to sleep.’

He closed the door and Gwen sat up, imagining Ryan or some other journalist.
Just like last time.
She sat straighter, holding herself very still for a few moments before realising that she was trying to listen, that she couldn’t just sit up here in the dark, wondering. She put on a dressing-gown and crept to the top of the stairs. Harry’s voice floated up from the hallway and her shoulders went down a notch. At least the papers didn’t have the story yet.

‘There’s good news and bad news,’ Harry was saying, and Gwen went down a couple of steps to hear better.

‘Are you going to arrest Gwen?’ Cam said, his voice cold as stone and twice as unfriendly.

‘No.’

‘You may come inside then,’ Cam said.

There was the sound of the front door closing and muffled shoes on tile. Gwen caught Cam saying, ‘Give me the good news.’

‘Gwen is no longer a suspect.’

She felt the tension in her body drain out and she sagged against the bannister.

‘She shouldn’t have been in the first place,’ Cam said.

Gwen walked downstairs in time to see Harry holding up his hands. ‘Just doing my job.’

‘Yeah, well—’

‘And you know I fucking hated it,’ Harry said. He caught sight of Gwen and nodded. ‘Morning. Sorry to wake you.’

‘I’m happy to be woken up for news like that.’

Cam put his arm around Gwen’s shoulders and pulled her close. ‘What’s the bad news?’

‘After an illuminating chat with your mother, we had an official word in Lily Thomas’s ear. However, that’s about as far as I can go.’ Harry nodded to Gwen. ‘I know you told me before that you’d had unwanted attention, but the law isn’t much good if someone is careful and determined.’

‘Restraining order?’ Cam said.

Harry shrugged. ‘Can’t hurt. And I’ll keep an eye out. Unofficially.’

‘Thank you,’ Cam said. He looked at Gwen. ‘I didn’t believe you when you told me Lily was after you. Before, I mean. I thought you were being paranoid. I’m sorry.’

Gwen blinked. Cam was really taking this honesty thing to heart.

Harry rubbed his hand over his face. He hadn’t shaved and his eyes were bloodshot. ‘I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’ve tried saying “it doesn’t feel right” to my boss, but it’s not an angle I can push.’

‘Modern policemen aren’t allowed hunches?’ Cam said.

‘Something like that.’ Harry shrugged.

Cam let out a long breath. ‘It’s not what Morse led me to believe.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Harry said seriously.

The next day was the opening of the Bath Christmas market and Gwen was still booked in to run her stall. She showered and got her stock ready, working on autopilot and hoping that keeping busy would help. It didn’t.

She went to the hospital on her way to the market. Katie was the same and Ruby looked worse. ‘Shall I take over here for a while? Let you get some rest.’

Ruby shook her head wordlessly.

Gwen hated feeling so helpless. She held her hand against Katie’s forehead and it was cool to the touch.

‘She’s not got a temperature,’ Ruby said. ‘They can’t tell us anything new. They say we just have to wait.’

Gwen nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The last thing Ruby needed was for her to dissolve. ‘I’m going to open my stall at the market for a couple of hours but I’ve got my mobile on me. Call if you need anything or if anything happens.’

‘I will,’ Ruby said.

Gwen kissed Katie, whispering into her hair, ‘Wake up.’

The Bath Christmas market was held in the paved square in front of the Abbey. When Gwen had first seen the little wooden houses arranged around the edge, she’d thought she’d come to the wrong place and stumbled into a large garden centre by mistake. However, looking around now at the inviting displays and twinkling fairy lights, she had to admit it looked very, well, Christmassy. ‘And very classy, darling,’ Mary-Anne said. ‘Nothing tacky in lovely Bath; the committee simply wouldn’t allow it. They’re even worse than Pendleford’s lot.’

‘Pendleford has a committee?’ Gwen said, and then remembered. ‘Oh. Patrick Allen’s crew.’

‘The very same.’ Mary-Anne was dealing out soaps in rainbow colours with the speed of a croupier. ‘Watch out for that one.’ She winked at Gwen. ‘He’s got an eye for the ladies.’

‘Right. Thanks.’ Gwen didn’t think Patrick Allen would ever be interested in her type. Thank God.

The display table was smaller than her usual one and it took longer than she expected to get her stock arranged. She nailed small pieces of wood to the back wall of the shed and rested a shadow box on each. By the time she’d finished, there were a good number of shoppers wandering past and the smell of roast chestnuts wafting through the air. A brass band began playing carols and Gwen felt her eyes pricking with tears. Again. What if Katie wasn’t out of hospital in time for Christmas? She blinked and held up a mirror for a lady who was looking at a pair of earrings.
Get your mind on the job. Katie is going to wake up and want some presents on the 25
^th
. It’s not going to be very festive at End House if you don’t make some bloody money.

After an hour, the temperature had dropped further. The sky was clear – no cloud cover – but at least it was dry. Lots of the punters were carrying cardboard cups of mulled wine or hot chocolate and Gwen began to crave some. She rubbed her hands together and wished she were wearing big ski mittens rather than fingerless gloves. It would be harder to make change, but at least she wouldn’t be worried about losing her fingertips to frostbite.

‘Hello, Gwen.’

Gwen almost did a double-take. It was Elaine Laing, in the expensively coated flesh. ‘Hello,’ Gwen managed.

Elaine studied her stall and Gwen felt herself tense.
If she says something disparaging, I’m going to let her have it.

‘The market looks nice this year,’ Elaine said. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, making her look more human than usual. ‘A good variety of stalls.’

‘Yes. The organisers did a good job,’ Gwen said.

Elaine reached out a finger, clad in camel-coloured leather, and lightly touched a Liberty-print scarf. ‘Is this genuine?’

‘Of course,’ Gwen said.

‘I apologise,’ Elaine said and Gwen almost fell over.

‘What are those?’ Elaine pointed at the shadow boxes.

‘They’re expensive,’ Gwen warned automatically, as she always did. And then she felt stupid. She always felt diffident about the asking price, but they took so long to make, she really couldn’t afford to price them lower. However, she knew that Elaine Laing probably considered seventy pounds pocket change.

She chose her favourite box and lifted it carefully down.

Elaine put her hands behind her back as if to stop herself from touching, and leaned forward to look.

Gwen steeled herself for the disparaging comments or stupid questions. It was the hardest thing about running the stall: the feeling of exposure.

‘Why are you selling these here?’ Elaine looked genuinely confused.

Gwen gritted her teeth and counted to ten, very fast. Then she said, ‘I like them. I like making them and this is my stall. I decide what to sell.’

Elaine smiled thinly. ‘I meant, why aren’t you selling them through a gallery?’

‘Sorry?’

‘They’re art pieces, correct?’

‘Well. Craft or art. It’s all a matter of opinion.’

Elaine straightened up. ‘Is each piece one of a kind or created in strictly limited edition?’

‘I never do the same piece twice. I couldn’t; the components are all unique—’

‘Are they all titled? Do they carry some kind of message or theme or mood?’ Elaine was ticking points off on her fingers. ‘Are they expressions of self?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I was just thinking that they should be in a gallery. Or a high-end gift shop at the very least. This—’ she waved at the wooden huts, the fairy lights, the crowd of Christmas shoppers, ‘is very pleasant, but I’m not sure you’re reaching your audience.’

‘My audience?’

‘All art is performance,’ Elaine said crisply. ‘Surely you know that? I’ll take this one.’ She reached into her handbag and extracted a purse. ‘Do you take credit cards?’

Gwen wrapped the shadow box carefully in tissue and put it into a cardboard box and then a bag. As she processed Elaine’s card, she wondered whether either of them were going to mention their last conversation. Gwen decided just to be grateful for whatever had brought about the change from a spitting and furious Elaine to this terrifyingly efficient, art-spouting, shadow-box buying creature.

Abruptly, Elaine said, ‘I was very sorry to hear about your niece.’

‘Thank you,’ Gwen said, concentrating very hard on the credit card machine.

‘I know the head of paediatrics at Bath Royal and I’ve spoken to him about Katie’s care.’

Gwen looked up, surprised that Elaine knew Katie’s name.

‘And I hear I’ll be seeing you on Christmas Eve.’

‘What?’ Gwen said.

‘I trust you’ll wear something suitable? I’m sure you won’t want to embarrass Cameron.’

‘Thank you for your purchase,’ Gwen said, as she always did.

Elaine gave her a patronising smile. ‘I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place.’

‘Clearly,’ Gwen said, keeping her expression neutral.

Elaine leaned in slightly. ‘You wanted in, Gwen. You’re going to have to live up to the Laing standards. That, as you would no doubt put it, is the deal.’ She gave a final wintery smile and walked away. Gwen watched her march straight to the exit as if her mission had been accomplished.
Oh boy
.

Gwen was exhausted when she got back to End House. She trailed up her garden path and unlocked the front door. She hung up her coat and turned, almost tripping over Cat. ‘Silly thing.’ She bent down to stroke him, but he wouldn’t stay still. He was winding round and round her ankles in a figure of eight. His mouth opened, showing pink gums and sharp teeth and gusting fish-breath into Gwen’s face, but no sound came out. It was as if something had stolen his screech. Gwen’s body tensed: something was very wrong.

She tried to pick Cat up, but he sprang away. Gwen moved to the kitchen doorway and that was when she saw Lily. She was standing at the kitchen sink, gazing out of the window into the garden. The light from the hallway illuminated the dark kitchen so that Lily’s blonde hair seemed to glow. Her hands, gripping the edge of the counter, were strangely black. Gwen flipped the light switch and the blackness resolved into dirt. Lily’s perfect pale pink fingernails were broken and encrusted with brown earth, as if she’d been digging with her bare hands.

‘Hello, Lily,’ Gwen said. Her throat clicked when she tried to swallow.

‘Gwen!’ Lily turned and smiled radiantly. ‘I’ve been waiting for ever.’

‘I was in Bath.’

Lily waved her hand. ‘I brought you some carrots. From my garden.’