The Moon Spun Round (38 page)

‘It was you all along, wasn’t it?’ Sally runs to the telephone. ‘Naomi? Oh, thank God you’re there. I’ve remembered. I’ve remembered what happened that morning. It was the cat. She made me do it. I think I killed my husband.’

They come at once, Naomi and Claire together. Within minutes they’re all in the kitchen, Claire brewing tea and Naomi sitting next to Sally with her arm around Sally’s shoulders. Naomi knows all the right things to say, the key words that turn the locks and pull back the bolts. And out it all comes, everything Sally has been holding back since the day Jonathan died.

‘I must be going crazy. I actually believed that Cat did it. At least that’s how I remember it. She’s just a cat, isn’t she? It must have been me and I’m trying to deny it. But I’m sure she knew. She made me phone him. And what about the cut on my hand? I don’t understand.’

‘No, but you’re starting to.’ Naomi’s voice is calm and firm. ‘Yes, you’re right, she
is
just a cat. And no, she didn’t know any of those things. Nor did she heal your hand.’

As if to prove the point, Cat saunters into the room, sits down in front of the Aga and begins an overall wash, starting with her nose and ears.

‘See? She’s a cat. A very special one, I grant you. A cat who is exceptionally intelligent and is sensitive to auras and certain vibrations. Which is why you and she are able to tune into each other and you can use her as a channel.’

Sally shakes her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I think
I
do.’ Claire hands her a mug of hot tea. ‘Here, drink this. I’ve put a few drops of Abbie’s Rescue Remedy in it. It’ll help calm you. Didn’t you say that when you very first set foot in this house it all looked familiar?’

‘That’s right. I knew where everything was, and about the river and—’

‘And would you say that up until then you’ve always tried to be very practical and down-to-earth? A rational explanation for everything? Doesn’t that sound like your father? Not like your mother, far too romantic and airy fairy.’

‘Yes, that’s what Dad used to call her, “that airy fairy mother of yours”. How did you know?’

‘And so, being the good little Taurean that you are, you were always careful to stick to the facts. You didn’t want to be like your mother, did you? She was
the reason your father left. He abandoned you and your sister, and all because your mother wouldn’t subscribe to his blinkered view of reality. She would insist on being herself, all imagination and intuition. That’s no way to keep a man, is it?’

Naomi looks up at Claire. ‘It’s all starting to make sense, isn’t it?’ She takes Sally’s arms, forcing her to look into her face. ‘You, my girl, are one very powerful psychic. Only you’ve never allowed yourself to acknowledge it. When you stepped into this place it must have been like walking into a high-voltage generator. It forced open channels in your mind that you never knew existed. But another part of you knew exactly where you were and why. You also knew precisely what was going on with Jonathan.’

‘Only, of course, you would never admit it to yourself. Jonathan, this house, any of it,’ says Claire. ‘That would be crossing into forbidden territory. But you found a way of dealing with the situation. And you found a willing accomplice in the cat.’

‘I’m finding it very hard to take all this in. And I still don’t understand what Cat has to do with it.’

‘Well,’ Naomi takes a deep breath, ‘you’ve heard of witches having familiars, haven’t you?’

‘Oh, come on. Next you’ll be telling me I can ride a broomstick.’

‘No need. Like me, you have a perfectly good car. Now, how can I explain this? You remember the ritual we performed at the Solstice? I showed you my magical implements and explained their different uses, didn’t I?’

‘Like the cup? And the knife?’ Sally sips more of her tea. It seems to be working, she feels a little more composed and is ready to listen, even if it does sound completely far-fetched.

‘They’re each symbolic of a process. Using them as a focus, I can control and direct mental energies.’

‘Yes, I can understand that. I think.’

‘But they’re not merely symbols. Because they’re used often, and exclusively for that purpose, I believe they actually become powerful objects in their own right.’

‘Yes, but what’s that got to do with Cat?’

‘Well, could you imagine using a magic wand that has a living field of energy, that’s not only conscious but is sensitively tuned to your moods and is capable of basic intelligent thought and action? It’s a very special relationship and usually it’s built up over time. But it seems you two clicked into each other instantly. I bet you know what she’s thinking a lot of the time. And does it seem like she understands what you say? Someone trained in the Craft would know how
to make use of a cat’s natural psychic energies. But you obviously managed it instinctively. Either that or you already knew.’

‘I’ve never had a cat before. My father would never have animals in the house.’

‘No? Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing, considering what you can do with them. As I keep telling you, you know so much already. Only, you don’t
know
that you know.’

‘And you are telling me that’s what Cat is? A sort of channel for psychic energy?’

‘More like a pre-programmed guided missile. But yes, that’s what she is.’

‘You said she appeared when you first arrived.’ Claire is speaking now. ‘That was before you’d had time to take anything in. No time to put up mental barriers. You became instantly tuned to each other. Instinctively, you knew what to do and you put her to work.’

‘So it was me all along? My hand healing so quickly, and the wine getting knocked over?’

‘I’d bet good money on it,’ says Naomi.

‘And I’d bet,’ says Claire, ‘that it all happened in the first twenty-four hours and there’s been nothing very dramatic since then.’

‘That’s right. Apart from her showing me around. And she always knows when there’s someone at the pool.’

‘Yes, she would. Animals—cats, particularly—get a buzz out of the sort of energy that people like us generate.’

‘People like us? You mean…Oh hell.’

‘It seems this evening you’ve broken through a psychological brick wall,’ says Claire. ‘You might find you start awakening all kinds of knowledge and ability. Who knows what else you can do?’

‘Oh, no!’ Sally is suddenly horrified. ‘Jonathan! If what you say is true, then it
was
me. I killed him!’

‘No.’ Claire kneels beside her and takes her hand. ‘You can’t be held responsible. You didn’t know what you were doing.’

‘It was like you were holding a gun and it went off,’ says Naomi. ‘You didn’t know it was loaded, you didn’t even know what the gun was. Besides, what about Jonathan? Isn’t he responsible for his own actions? And therefore he has to take the consequences.’

‘That’s right.’ Claire pulls up a chair so that the three of them are sitting close together.

‘You weren’t responsible then because you weren’t aware of your capabilities,’ says Naomi. ‘But now you
are
aware and you have to learn to control it. In fact
you’ve probably done so to some extent, without even realizing it. That’s why it’s all gone quiet. The old rational mind stepping in to stop the party getting out of hand.’

‘But if you should want to test out your skills,’ says Claire, ‘you’re welcome to borrow my husband to practise on.’

Sally blinks twice before she realizes Claire is joking. Or is she? He is out there still, a murderer, walking free.

‘So what about you, Claire? Why couldn’t you use this to stop Ayden?’

‘Because I’m not capable. I see things, mental images. And I hear voices—sometimes I actually see people. But I can’t control energies. That’s Naomi’s department. She’s trained to do that.’

‘So why didn’t you do something, Naomi? I mean before Claire got hurt?’

‘Because I wasn’t certain what was going on, or at least why, and Claire wouldn’t tell us.’ She takes Claire’s hand. ‘She made it clear she didn’t want to involve anyone else, so I figured I had no moral right to interfere. But how I wish on the Goddess that I had.’

‘OK, I can understand that. But what about now, after what Ayden’s done, and if the police aren’t going to arrest him? We all keep talking about not letting him get away with it. Shouldn’t you—we—be doing something?’

‘We should. And I’m planning to.’

‘Fran did say something about Saturday.’

‘The right time to cast an intention is on a waxing tide. New moon’s on Friday, so Saturday’s the day to invoke justice. Ruled by Saturn, you see. A ritual to invoke justice for Ruth. We can set in motion events that will send all the evil intent back to its source. Nothing can bring Ruth back to us, but it will avenge her death.’

‘In what way? I mean, what will it do to him?’

‘That’s not for me to say. We’re not in a position to understand everything, we don’t even have any proof that it was him. What we can ask for is justice for Ruth, and we can set events in motion that will bring that into being. Then if Ayden
is
guilty, he’ll be punished in full measure.’

‘Well, if it’s justice for Ruth, you can count me in.’ The words are out before Sally has time to consider what she’s committing herself to.

‘I’d hoped you would say that. I don’t think it’s right or fair to expect Claire to participate.’

‘I’ve told you, I want to be a part of it,’ says Claire.

‘No way. You’re too emotionally embedded in the man. There could be no objectivity. Not that any of us is particularly distanced. However, Fran is eager to act. And Abbie, of course. But we need all the power we can summon up,
and it seems that you, Sally, could be a real asset. But perhaps you need to think everything through first. Why don’t you sleep on it? If you still feel the same on Saturday, I’ll be glad to have you on board.’

‘You’re right, I need to take all this in. But I’m beginning to see some sense in it.’ Turning to Claire, she asks, ‘And what about Ayden? Have you seen anything of him since the funeral?’

‘No. Though I’m sure he knows where I am. He’s keeping out of sight. He’s probably convinced himself that he’s got away with it. I’m sure he knows that we know, but he thinks we’re powerless to do anything about it. We’re only women, you see.’

‘Well,’ says Naomi, ‘maybe it’s time we showed him what we women can do.’

B
ACK IN
N
AOMI’S SITTING ROOM
, comfortable amid its abundance of cushions and rugs, Claire and Naomi are both aware of the silence within the room and beyond. Outside everything is still. The snow has stopped falling, having settled in a thick layer that will transform the village into a Christmas-card scene in the morning light. A car passes and pulls up further along the road. Claire reaches over to refill Naomi’s wine glass.

And she freezes.

Her body is rigid and her eyes filled with sudden fear. ‘It’s him,’ she whispers. ‘He’s out there.’

‘Who? You mean Ayden?’ Naomi is immediately alert, her mind moving instantly to the series of pentagrams drawn in the air around the building and the images of iron bars at the windows and doors, reinforcing them with Earth and Fire.

Claire moves to the window. From outside, the house would appear to be in darkness. The curtains are drawn against the cold night, the room unlit except for a single candle flickering in a crystal holder. Claire moves the edge of a curtain an inch, enough to see down and along the road. That’s his black BMW, unmistakable.

‘Is it him?’ Behind her, Naomi’s voice is a whisper. ‘What’s he doing?’

‘Nothing. At least, he’s not getting out of the car. Watching us, that’s what he’s doing.’

There are two sets of tyre tracks in the road, those from Ayden’s vehicle weaving an erratic course to the curb, and the straight lines Naomi had created
when they’d arrived home a short while ago. ‘He knows we’re here and that we haven’t been in long.’

Seconds slip by while they hold their breath. Minutes pass, and still they dare not move. Claire holds back the edge of the curtain while Naomi looks over her shoulder. There’s no sign of life from the BMW. They’re beginning to wonder if it has been abandoned. If that were the case, however, there would be telltale footprints leading away from it, but the road is as white and smooth as a wedding cake.

‘This is ridiculous.’ Eventually Naomi stands back. ‘Why the hell am I whispering? Look, I’m going down to talk to him.’

‘You can’t do that. Ruth—’

‘This is different.’ Naomi snatches up her cellphone and thrusts it into Claire’s hand. ‘You watch from here. Any sign of trouble, dial 999.’

‘I really don’t think you should do this. Let’s call someone. Perhaps George—’

‘I refuse to be intimidated in my own home. And, no, I don’t need a man to sort this out.’

Claire feels sick with fear. She listens for Naomi’s footsteps descending the stairs, then her muttered curses as she struggles into her boots. The front door opens and cold air billows up the stairwell. Naomi comes into sight on the pavement below, stomping purposefully across to where the BMW is parked. When she starts thumping the car roof, Claire punches in the emergency numbers, ready to press the talk button. She’s only slightly relieved to see that the door doesn’t open. Instead the window is being wound down.